


The One

by Scribe456



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe456/pseuds/Scribe456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan is the personal assistant to bestselling novelist Regina Mills. Emma wants more, but can Regina see beyond their work and into Emma's heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma knew the moment she took the card of the young man with electric blue eyes and the sleeve of colorful tattoos that fate hadn't brought him to her side of the room. She had smiled at him, and now Emma begrudged the boy – that's what he was, after all - the effort it cost her.

"Hey! Yeah! Good to see you," the young man garbed in a vintage Nirvana t-shirt and black skinny jeans and Vans shouted above the chainsaw-like music of the club. He looked around Emma, scanning the room like prey searching for the predator's hidden location.

Emma knew he was looking for Regina Mills. Regina Mills, the prolific avant-garde novelist well known in all arts circles for her penchant for multimedia projects and literary openings. When Regina Mills did well, the people around her did well. And everybody wanted to be on the Regina Mills bandwagon, given she was the queen of every bestseller list.

There was her name. Pre-printed. The address perfectly printed in its laser-inked reflective baby blue. It was some announcement of a film project by a group of graduate student at the nearby university, wanting her to be an interview subject. Emma had made the mistake yet again of thinking she could separate her life into compartments marked "with her" or "without her", and she had that heart-sinking feeling as she left the makeshift bar and out into the lonely street.

It was well after most bars closed. Emma couldn't even bring forth the impetus to chastise herself for walking the sidewalk at 4 a.m. She knew it was stupid, yet still walked toward her makeshift temporary home. Something was missing. "Something important has somehow slipped away," Emma thought, "something that I'd never had and only now began to realize was missing."

She had thought that seeing a band by herself in this dingy hole of a venue would be a good way to get away from the overwhelmingness of her. Not just her, but the fact that Emma's employer and her notoriety had seeped their way into every dark corner of Emma's life. Not just into her heart, where all was torment and conflict, but where it was quiet and soft and where Emma could keep the sacredness a secret to herself. To hold onto it in the dark night when she knew she would never act upon it.

But no. Emma was still approached by strangers in odd places asking an audience. With Regina.

Emma's dating life had screeched to a halt after she had begun working for Regina. And after she moved onto her massive estate after Emma's apartment had caught fire, well. That was just the death knell for what had once been a struggling social life on the most meager of life support. If Emma was perfectly honest with herself, she had begun to slowly starve that part of herself the moment Regina had stared at her with those dark, wet eyes and said she was the one.

The one to get her coffee and arrange her flights. The one to organize her appointments and signings. Emma was her personal assistant. "And it would do me well to remember that. All she needs from me are my office skills," Emma whispered to herself.

I suppose that's not entirely true, she thought. There were other things she needs from me. To Regina, I am a sort of adopted family member. She has little family left, and those who were have the habit of only coming around when they need something.

Emma never asked those things of Regina, made sure never to reveal what she did need. What that need did to her. Emma was sure the effort was beginning to take its toll on both her and the working relationship. She didn't know how much longer she could keep it under wraps.

No, she would never say anything to Regina. But she would start putting out feelers for a new position tomorrow. It was time to move on. Emma couldn't do this anymore, it wasn't healthy. Her obsession was becoming too much to handle on her own, and she needed to rip the bandage off in one quick move.

But she couldn't deny the fact Regina was everything. She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, witty, well-read, a good friend. Rich beyond any possible material needs would require. Yes, Regina provided Emma a place to live. She was a friend, if nothing else. Emma knew, though, that something had to change or she was going to lose herself.

Emma listened to the sound of her heels clicking on the badly cracked sidewalk, echoing in the dark. One of them caught between two slabs of separated concrete and snapped with a sound that was like a gunshot in the heavy dark night. She couldn't help but chortle. I thought that only happened in movies. How cliché I've become, she said to herself. She rolled her eyes and slid her shoes off, tucking one in each pocket of her black trench coat.

A car engine purred on the street beside her. Emma knew who it was before Regina even pulled the Benz to a smooth stop. "Not a very good place to be walking this time of night, ma cherie," she said. "Get in."

So she did.

What else could she do?

"Not a good idea, ma cherie, to walk alone in the dark. The city has dangers even you cannot imagine," she purred, much like her car. Emma loved the sound of Regina's voice, it was a velvet tone licking up her spine.

"You're right, of course," Emma said, her voice just above a whisper. The night had gotten her down far more than it should have. She felt the burden of her obsession on her shoulders and that betraying tingle between her legs, even as Emma inhaled the scent of Regina's light, expensive perfume and the leather of the car's interior. She wanted it to saturate her senses, to become a part of her sinuses, her lungs, her soul so it would never leave her.

Rational thought intruded, this is exactly why you have to get away from her.

She looked over at Regina's profile, alternating between silhouette and flashes of the real woman under the passing streetlights. Emma knew it was more than obsession. She had to admit that to herself. It was far more.

Emma was in love with Regina. What was it they said? That it was like falling asleep? Slowly at first, then all at once. That was exactly how it had happened. Tricky, tricky love.

More than that, Emma knew Regina didn't have similar feelings. She felt obligation, a responsibility to someone who worked for her. She was a good woman. It was the main reason she loved Regina. Despite all, she was a good person. But Emma knew their differences were too high a wall to overcome.

Emma was younger. She was a nobody, and she liked that. She was only a somebody because of her attachment to Regina. As soon as she was no longer a part of her sphere, Emma would go back to the miasma from which nobodies like her sometimes bubbled up from for mere moments. Regina would always have fame and wealth and cars and men.

Good God, the men. Emma had never known Regina to have even had one girlfriend in all the time she had known her. Men, yes. Handsome little Ambercrombie & Fitch fuck boys who were too old to model, but not too old to decorate a successful woman's arm and to fetch her drinks.

When they finally reached Regina's home, she took Emma's hand and walked her to the door of the guesthouse. She had insisted Emma use it after the catastrophe of her apartment fire. Damn, she's nice, Emma thought. She turned to thank Regina for saving her from herself, yet again.

As she stood on the sidewalk outside the blackened ruins of her apartment, Regina had driven up in her black Benz, got out, looked her over, and simply opened the passenger side door. Emma got in and after a few nights in one of the spare bedrooms in the main house, realized she couldn't be that close to her much longer.

"What about the guesthouse?" Emma asked one day while she was going over line edits on one of Regina's many writing projects.

"What about it?" Regina looked up from the ream of paper in her hand and reached for the coffee Emma had prepared for her. Black, double sweet, extra strong.

"Why I can't I move out there?" Emma asked. "It would give you some space. It's not really good for people who work together to live together, too, y'know."

Regina swiveled around in her desk chair, her hair swinging behind her in a dark aura, and looked at me with those golden chocolate eyes of hers. Emma would have been more coherent if she were still talking to the back of Regina's head instead of those eyes, now blackish in the subdued light of the office. They were her downfall, she only hoped Regina would see it her way and grant some merciful absence from her presence.

"If that's what you want," she murmured. Taking a sip of coffee, she turned back to his work. Emma couldn't tell because she was turned away, but it sounded as though Regina was disappointed.

It's not what Emma had wanted at all. Later that day, though, she packed her essentials. By week's end, the guesthouse had been ready for occupancy. Emma packed the rest of her things and was moved away from Regina within a few days. She still saw her every day, but the distance at night was a needed one. She don't know why, it's not as if Emma would ever have acted on her impulses. She would never walk down the hall, strip off, and then crawl into bed with Regina.

Not that Emma had thought about it every minute of every night and every day, or anything.

But Emma knew that she was only a mere step away from inappropriateness, and Regina's very being was based on being appropriate. She was "appropriate," and would never do anything to make anyone, Emma included, think otherwise. Meanwhile, Emma was daydreaming of pulling her hot boss away from that desk and doing things that would make her pull my hair in ecstasy.

Inappropriate things.

Regina was too close, her face about an inch from Emma's. She felt Regina's warm breath on her cheek, the scent of her skin drowning Emma in apples and cinnamon and … a touch of lavender? Emma smiled contentedly into her flashing dark eyes.

"Good night …"

And that's when it happened. Her boss, her friend, her obsession - Regina Mills - kissed her.

And it was hot.


	2. Chapter 2

Regina was too close, her face about an inch from Emma's. She felt Regina's warm breath on her cheek, the scent of her skin drowning Emma in apples and cinnamon and … a touch of lavender? I smiled contentedly into her flashing dark eyes.

"Good night …"

And that's when it happened. Her boss, her friend, her obsession - Regina Mills - kissed her.

And it was hot.

Regina was too close, her face about an inch from Emma's. She felt Regina's warm breath on her cheek, the scent of her skin drowning Emma in apples and cinnamon and … a touch of lavender? I smiled contentedly into her flashing dark eyes.

"Good night …"

And that's when it happened. Her boss, her friend, her obsession - Regina Mills - kissed her.

And it was hot.

In that moment, she opened. It was just like those lame depictions in old movies and in romance novels. Apparently, they're lame because they're true. Emma unfurled like a fucking flower under Regina's skilled lips and tongue.

Emma dropped her purse and heard the shoes clatter out of her coat pockets as she reached for Regina's waist. Regina was leaning into the kiss, but when Emma slid her fingers into the soft hair at her employer's neck and pulled gently, she came closer. Emma's heart pounded. Regina had offered, and she was taking. She felt the tears prickle at the back of her eyelids.

Emma had never been so ecstatic. So … yes … grateful.

"Oh yes," Regina groaned against Emma's pink lips. Her warm hands snaked under Emma's red raincoat. As busy as their mouths were, Regina's hands began to move on Emma in patterns that threatened her sanity. She told her conscience to shut the fuck up and explored Regina's warm mouth as if the very secrets of existence were laid bare there. Emma's eyes tightly closed, she didn't want to wake from this dream if that was what it truly was. God knows, she'd had enough dreams featuring Regina Mills that left her wanting and hot and alone in the dark.

Emma moaned into Regina's devilish tease of a mouth and sucked her plump bottom lip, nipping with her teeth. She grew brave and opened her eyes, watching Regina's surprise at her play. In that instant her dark eyes were quicksilver, and Emma saw them shutter even as her right hand was on her left breast. Regina's thumb was on her nipple, and it felt as though her flesh was on fire.

It was on fire. For her. For Regina's touch, the only one that would relieve Emma of the burden she carried. The love Emma felt for Regina was painful. She was on fire. She was bruised and beaten and loved the feeling as Regina trailed her flaming kisses down the blonde woman's neck. Emma imagined she wanted one more taste before dragging her inside to bed where a warm cocoon of requited love was about to be created.

"I'm sorry …" Regina whispered. Her hands were still on Emma's body, and she felt the husky hardness in her employer's grip loosen. Emma knew she wasn't sorry. Even as she pulled away from Emma there on the porch of the guesthouse, the motion sensor picked up the movement and a light clicked on. It was like being doused in cold water. Emma was shaking, still quivering like an abandoned, rain-soaked pup - just from the power of Regina's kisses.

Her apology didn't make Emma feel any less of a fool. A confused fool, but a stupid fool nonetheless. A warm cocoon, Emma thought. Yeah. As if that was ever going to happen, she thought, backing away and closing in on herself to protect her sensitive, soft parts.

Regina, her eyes confused searched Emma's pale features, but the blonde's darkening eyes slid from her and looked out into the darkness. It had suddenly gone even colder. "It's alright," she mumbled, pushing back a mass of wild blonde curls as she reached down for her purse. The encounter had gone from mindblowing to crap in the space of a few moments. Emma knew what would happen. Regina would pretend it never occurred, while she never could forget. The kiss would eat at her every minute of every day she spent with her employer, and Emma would never have any peace.

"I'll see you in the morn…er, in a few hours?" Regina attempted that reassuring smile that always seemed to do things to her. It didn't meet her eyes, which were still somewhat clouded with wanting, even as Regina brushed a finger against Emma's arm.

Work. Of course. How stupidly naïve to think she might speak of anything else.

"Yes. Work…" Emma said as she let herself into her brightly lit temporary home.

"Emma …" her eyes asked a question to which the blonde didn't have an answer. Emma knew Regina would want to go back to what she saw as a perfect working relationship, what they'd had before what Emma was already thinking of as The Kiss. Capital letters. If it had been hard for Emma before, it was now impossible. Her stomach dropped, and she felt the sharp pressure of disappointment somewhere behind her sternum.

Regina's response definitely put a hairline fracture in a heart where there hadn't been one in before. And to think I had been so careful, guarded it so diligently by refusing to care for anyone, Emma thought. By thinking herself unlovable and unworthy of another person's love or regard, she protected herself from such overwhelming notions and emotions. The trick hadn't worked this time, though, and the reality was crashing down upon her that her so-called trick was truth. I sound pathetic even to myself. I am pathetic.

Emma looked at Regina, hoping her stupid eyes would keep the tears imprisoned just a few moments longer. A few more minutes and Regina would be gone. It would be over, and Emma could pack and leave. It was what she did best.

"I'm tired," Emma said, her voice an octave deeper than usual. She gently pulled further away from Regina and her dark beauty - far enough that even a casual touch would be unlikely. Emma needed the cold, the opposite of the warmth her body offered but her heart and mind did not. She needed it as a way to bring her back to her reality. To remind her. And she was tired, in so many ways. Tired of loving a woman who would never love her back, or allow herself to. Tired of wasting her life waiting. Tired of living a life she knew wasn't going to enrich her any further than what it already had.

She ducked into the small cottage and closed the door with a click, shutting Regina out for the last time. Emma couldn't bear to be in Regina's presence anymore; she had been laid so bare, splayed open for all to see with the power of just one kiss.

Emma had learned what she needed to in this situation. She was not loved in return. Regina had apologized for The Kiss, for making her think things that were impossible.

Now Emma Swan was thinking it was time to move on.

Regina stood on the lovely wraparound porch wondering what to do. It seemed she sat there forever in a wrought iron chair, even after Emma had closed the door with a soft click. Emma watched Regina from inside after she turned off the lights in the cottage. Just sat and watched Regina from the other side of the picture window as she seemed to contemplate her world. After a while, Emma saw her slowly rise from the chair and walk toward the main house. When Regina's figure faded into the dark outside the boundaries of the lighted walkway, Emma dared to move and flipped the lights back on.

The brightness of Regina's world would never admit someone like Emma Swan, homeless orphan and one-time jailbird. Regina's world hurt her eyes and promised things that would never happen. It was time to make the decision for Regina, who was too kind to pull the plug on their relationship … whatever it was at this point. But Emma knew that in the light of day, they would never discuss The Kiss. It was best this way.

Soon after Regina left for the main house, Emma packed everything – which was ashamedly little, mostly clothes and the odd books (mostly those by Regina) – and called a taxi to meet her at the driveway gate.

Emma Swan was long gone before the workday started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Reviews and kudos are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Emma was gone.

Regina knew it was a fact, but she still couldn't believe it. Everything in the house was as it should be. Showroom ready, clean, and wanting an occupant. It was …

It was empty, she thought. Regina felt helpless as she walked quickly through the small house, searching the rooms. Thrusting open the closet, she knew it would be empty. The same with the dresser and the nightstands.

With increasing pressure in her chest she continued to search for any sign of Emma. Any sign she would be returning to the little house. To her job. To Regina.

Emma had left her.

The only thing that had held any reminders of Emma was the desk in the small extra bedroom. It was covered in post-it notes and reminders in the blonde's looping scrawl. The laptop Regina had provided for her was still plugged into the surge protector. It had gone into sleep mode.

There on the screen was a note to her. Emma had known Regina so well, known just what her reaction would be and where she would look. Where any artist who creates with words would look – the computer.

Regina –

I love you. I can't do this anymore. No big scenes. No uncomfortable goodbyes. Just ... I love you.

E

It may as well have been written on a fucking post-it note, Regina thought. Emma had left after she had crossed the line. Hell, who was she kidding? They had both jumped over that fucking line, then kicked dirt over it. Several times. But Regina had been glad to do it. The follow-through was shit, but she was glad about what had happened between them. If she felt that way, why would Emma leave?

Regina ran through it in her mind, starting at the beginning of the evening. She had followed Emma. Regina didn't know why, exactly. Well, of course she did know why. Because she was concerned for her friend, who was going to be in a dodgy part of town, alone, well into the night. Knowing she had a penchant for walking because it gave her time to fall into her thoughts for awhile, Regina knew Emma would be endangering herself without meaning to.

It had only seemed natural to jump in her car and head toward the venue downtown where Emma had said her cousin Belle's band would be playing for one night only. Regina had parked and waited for Emma to emerge, watching from the dark as she walked toward the nearest bus stop. For awhile, she admired the sway of Emma's hips under the buzzing lights of the streetlamps. Then, as the blonde started to disappear from view, Regina put the car in gear and approached her for a ride.

Emma had accepted. Gratefully? It had seemed so, but she had been distracted. Emma was never distracted. If anything, the Emma that Regina knew was always of a single mind, always driven by a purpose. Tonight, she appeared torn, as if thinking was doing no good. She even avoided eye contact with her employer, her friend.

At the house, she took Emma by the hand and helped her from the car. Shit, in any other century and any other realm that would have been downright chivalric, Regina thought. But then The Kiss happened, and somehow it all had gone to hell. Emma had been magnificent. It had been the hottest, sweetest, most amazing kiss Regina had ever been a part of, and that was the truth. But then …

But then … damn. But then she had apologized, Regina remembered. She had apologized to Emma for The Kiss - which had taken on such importance that Regina capitalized it in her mind - even as her hands were still roaming Emma's warm, shapely, needy body. Emma's liquid green eyes had cleared, her arms pulled away from Regina and she had slipped away like running water through her fingers.

Suddenly, it had been over and Emma was gone. It wasn't what Regina had wanted. She didn't know why she had apologized, it had just come out. Maybe because she was sorry to complicate their relationship? She was sorry to make working for her awkward when it had been so natural before? Or perhaps Regina was sorry that, while she wanted to take her inside and fuck her brains out, she couldn't help but think it wasn't the right time?

Regina was sorry for a mixture of those things, she told herself. Regina sighed and read the note again. I love you, it said. I can't do this anymore.

Do what? We had one kiss. The Kiss to end all kisses. Regina knew she wanted more, but also that it was time to let her go. She was a moody writer who was difficult to live with at the best of times, and Emma was her sweet PA that put up with all her flamboyant and demanding shit.

It was obvious. They would never fit quite right together.

But who was she kidding? Regina knew what the "this" was in the note. The teasing, the almost loving, the almost relationship they had going. Regina had relationships before. Awful ones. She didn't want what happened in those to happen to what he had with Emma. She wanted Emma to always be there and to be there for her. She couldn't imagine her life without her - and not just her skills as a PA, but her. Her scent, the way she moved, the way she had of keeping Regina on task, the gentle brushes across her shoulders as she worked. It was as if Emma needed to touch Regina, to touch base. It was silently encouraging, especially when the writing was difficult. Regina loved her for it.

And Regina had said I'm sorry.

What the hell? She was thinking about a future with Emma? Perhaps Emma had made the best decision, after all. Regina wasn't good at relationships, and that's why she didn't want one. Even now, with Emma. Sweet Emma.

Oh, but she'd like to have sex with her. Even now. Even after Emma left her in the lurch in so many ways by sneaking out in the literal dead of night, Regina would still have her in her bed underneath her. Over her. On their sides. Over the side of the couch. On her desk.

Damn, Regina thought. She needed to stop this. It was done, and Emma had made the best decision for herself. Regina had made the wrong one, though. It didn't mean it was painless for her, though. But there was one thing Emma didn't know.

Regina wasn't sorry for The Kiss at all. How could she be? It was the closest she had ever been to completion, to joining her soul to that of another. And now Emma was gone, had been for hours. If she left right after their encounter, that meant she had been gone for about eight hours.

To Regina, it may as well have been a hundred years.

A year ago …

Regina Mills hated parties. She despised having to mingle and make small talk with those who, otherwise, she would have nothing in common with. No, there was no way she would have entered the flotsam if not for the requirement set by her publisher to attend such events. 

But that didn't mean she had to watch a girl get mauled by the drunken stepson of the publishing house's CEO. The girl was in trouble, that much was evident.

Truthfully, she had been watching the young woman since arriving at the soiree. The girl had to be someone's assistant or an intern or something, she seemed too – pure, for lack of a better word – to be an agent or editor. Maybe she was a line editor, but whatever. It made no difference. There was no reason for the abuse she was being forced to endure, Regina thought.

Regina saw the smarmy man's hands swerve against the younger woman's slim frame, one delving into the mass of golden blonde hair and the other squeezing her ass. That was it, she thought to himself. Slamming her glass of whiskey onto the nearest table with a thwak, Regina made her way across the room to the French doors. There, the woman was attempting to fend off the increasingly adamant moves of the scumbag while maintaining the decorum such an important industry event demanded. 

The girl must really need this job, Regina thought. Grabbing the guy's lapel, Regina spun him around and knuckle-punched him in the throat. She couldn't help but grin as the guy choked and spat, grabbing at his neck with both hands – which, Regina was satisfied, were now off the young woman.

The young woman stood there, shocked. But still, she was glad someone had stepped in when she had frozen. Killian Jones had deserved more than a punch to the throat, she was only saddened it hadn't been at her hand. No matter, what's done is done. And one thing that was inescapably done was her job with Jones Paper Co. Well, here is my pink slip. Might as well grab a few snacks and split, Emma thought to herself. You don't cause the son of the CEP to be punched in the throat and keep your unpaid internship. A passing waiter had been stunned into stillness, tray full of snacks and champagne. Emma snagged the tray and lifted a glass to Regina.

"Well, thank you, Ms. Whoever You Are," she said, tossing back the wine as she walked toward the foyer with a false confidence only Regina saw through.

Emma had underestimated the possibilities laid out before her upon leaving Regina Mills's employ. After leaving Regina's compound, Emma went to her cousin's apartment where she was ordered to set up camp in a spare bedroom, throw on some comfy clothes and settle down for an ice cream feast.

It was just what she needed.

She hadn't seen Belle in more than a month, as Regina's schedule had them traveling most of that time. Emma spilled everything out as she dug for brownie pieces in the Ben & Jerry's pint that had tried to put up a good fight. Though Emma had known she would never see Regina again, she kept glancing at her mobile phone. If it had been a tiff between lovers, surely they would have been busy repairing the relationship.

"You keep looking at that phone like it's supposed to ring," Belle said quietly, her accent lilting across the sofa. She was curled up on the couch, spooning some Chunky Monkey into her mouth. An episode of "Orange is the New Black" played in the background.

Emma shrugged. "It's just a bad habit."

"Well, it's one you're going to have to break, Emma, if this is what you really want."

Emma nodded, adding a "hmmm" to make her compliance seem more convincing. She knew Belle was right. And, after all, she had left with the intention of making her absence from Regina's life permanent. And no matter how many times she looked at that damn phone, it still told the same story.

Regina was apparently unaffected by her absence. She was probably interviewing for a new personal assistant right at that very moment. Bitch.

Well, that might be a bit harsh. Emma was sure she was affected insomuch as she had to write her own emails, schedule her own meetings and such. But any office temp could do those things, she would just have to call and hire someone.

But it's not harsh, Emma told herself. It was nothing like that. In fact, it was the opposite of that, and Regina was likely glad to see the back of her. It was a relief that Emma had finally made the decision to end it … whatever it was … between them. Someone had ripped the bandage off, and now it would scab over and heal. Good as new.

Well, almost. That's how these things worked, right? Live to love another day? Emma knew she would have a scar from the experience. She only hoped it would be smaller than the original wound.

Mostly, Emma was tired. The carb coma from the ice cream was beginning to hit, and she crawled into bed late in the afternoon. Sleep was a good respite from choking back the tears of sorrow and regret. Emma had finally killed whatever relationship she had with Regina. She could move on.

Perhaps it should have a funeral, Emma thought to herself as consciousness ebbed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Reviews and kudos are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been awhile since an update. The semester got away from me! Here's some Regina and Cora.

The words wouldn’t come. 

No matter how long she stared at the screen and tried to force them, tried to keep to her publisher-approved story outline, Regina couldn’t make the words appear. The flashing cursor at times mocked, at times comforted. But, it remained. 

It felt like her mind was blank. As if when Emma left, she had taken every wisp of inspiration with her that had allowed Regina to work, to write, to create. What was it Lord Byron said? “If I do not write to empty my mind, I will go mad?” Regina had always thought it was a crock of shit from someone who had fucked his way across Europe and likely smelled of venereal disease and patchouli.

Turns out, though, it was true. She had never known it before because words usually came easily. Before Emma, it was fine. While Emma was in her life, puttering around her house and handling her business affairs – and some personal affairs, admittedly, Regina’s work never suffered. In fact, it flourished. 

But no longer.

Regina felt the chair underneath her, the slickness of the laptop keys under her fingertips. She heard the slow ticking of what must be the slowest fucking clock in the world, but none of it helped. And, she knew, none of it would help.

Because Emma was gone. Emma was gone and had sucked all the fresh air out of her lungs, had taken the light from the home they had shared for awhile, even if it was strictly business.

Regina scowled. Strictly business. If she hadn’t been so stuck on business, maybe Emma would be with her right now. Maybe she would be swishing around the room, offering much needed distractions from work that was on like gangbusters. Just laying her eyes upon Emma helped Regina center herself and form the words needed to make stories people seemed to love.

Deeper in the house, a door slammed so hard it turned askew some of the papers on Regina’s desk. It didn’t take long for the trespasser to make her way to Regina’s study.

“Regina!”

“Mother,” she said, rising slowly from her desk chair. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

It had been weeks since Cora Mills had visited her daughter. Usually, they met outside the house for a meal or a drink, something that allowed each of them to leave whenever they wanted. While cordial, their relationship had been strained for many years due to Cora’s interceding in Regina’s professional and personal affairs.

“Dear, where is my lovely Emma Swan? Did you finally give her a day off, you termagant? You really are too hard on the girl, your expectations are far too high.”

“You have no idea,” Regina muttered, turning to straighten the skewed stack of papers back into a semblance of order.

“What?”

“She’s not here, Mother.”

“But why? She told me she loved working with you! That’s something you don’t hear often. That someone loves working with the reclusive hardass Regina Mills.”

“Yes, well. Emma Swan terminated her employment,” Regina said tightly. Her chest felt white hot as she said it aloud, spinning angrily toward her mother. “She no longer works for me.”

“Oh,” said Cora. She just looked at her daughter. Cora’s deep, dark eyes may have been windows to her soul, but they were also like X-rays going right to the depths of what her daughter wasn’t saying. “Oh!”

Regina’s eyes narrowed and she brushed past her mother, intent on putting her hands to work doing something in the kitchen. Anything.

“Tea?” She found herself making the offer before being consciously aware of her intent.

“Of course. The lemon ginger, please,” Cora said. Regina nodded. She knew which tea to brew for her mother. It was the same tea she had drunk since childhood. She claimed it was good for the lungs and chest. Regina wondered if it would cure that burning in her chest that started when Emma left.

“So why did she leave, dear? Were you not getting along?” Cora asked as she removed her light jacket and made herself comfortable at the eat-in table. Her keys clanged on the slick glass top as she lay them down.

“I suppose you would have to ask her, Mother. She didn’t bother to let me know.”

Cora let that sink in and the air settled around it. It didn’t ring true somehow. The Emma Swan she had met would have at least left a resignation letter.

“I see. Nothing but trouble, that one. I’m glad she’s gone,” Cora said. 

Tending the electric kettle, Regina startled. She wasn’t glad Emma was gone, not by a long shot. Everyone seemed to love Emma. She had thought her mother had adored the girl. Regina felt the heat in her heart become partners with a sudden heat in her brain at the thought of someone trash talking Emma. After all, she was the woman she lo ...

What?

Regina missed the #1 Mom mug that Emma had bought and reserved for Cora’s visits and poured boiling water on the pad of her thumb.

“Goddammit!” Mentally, she began counting to five as she dragged her hand over to the tap where she could run cold water over it.

Cora rose and assembled her tea, dropping a spoonful of honey from a tacky bear-shaped bottle into the liquid, before returning to the table to sit smugly and blow on her drink. Gripping the cup with both hands, she brought it to her lips and drank as she gave Regina time to think over the impact of what was said and not said.

Regina held her hand under the cold tap until the burn eased and her fingers got stiff. “I kissed her,” she whispered.

“What?” Cora asked, having heard damn well what her daughter had confessed.

Regina whipped away from the sink and flicked the faucet off. “I. Kissed. Her. That’s why she left, Mother.”

Cora smiled.

“Oh, darling. I’m sure that’s not why she left.”

Crossing the kitchen, Regina sat heavily in the chair across from her mother. “No, you’re right. She left because I apologized for it.”

Oh, dear. That did surprise Cora. Regina’s mother cleared her throat and set her cup on the table.

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, I’m her employer, for one thing. It’s not ethical for me to be mauling my employees, now is it?” Regina snarked as she wiped her hand dry. Some angry pink remained, but she figured it would be OK.

“Generally, no. It wouldn’t be ethical. However, given how our dear Emma left in the middle of the night and ran to her friends’ bosoms, it doesn’t sound as if she took offense to the kissing.”

“Mother, how do you know where …”

“And furthermore, you didn’t tell me about the note she left, which leads me to believe that kiss meant far more to you than you are willing to admit, Regina.”

“Seriously, how do you know all this …?”

“I’m on her friends’ band’s Facebook site. I love their blend of punk feminist folk rock,” Cora said, shrugging a shoulder as if to say no big deal.

Regina just looked at her mother, an eyebrow raised. “There are things I do not know about you, old woman. So many things.”

“Well, dear, this is true. However, if there is one thing I know about you, it is that you are shit with dealing with emotions. You can write about them all day every day in your book manuscripts, but as far as real life? No. You’re a terrified little girl.” 

This gave Regina pause. She knew her mother was right. God, she hated when her mother was right.

“You’re right.”

“Well, mark the calendar!” Cora crowed and swallowed down the last bit of her tea and setting down the cup with a click. “The ball is in your court, as they say, dear one. What do you want to do?”

“I need her back. I need my inspiration to return to me. I can’t do anything without Emma, mother. She’s the one who made everything make sense. Without her, it’s all wrong – I’m all wrong,” Regina said, her gaze focused on the floor under the glass table top. It was as if the words trapped in her mind had flowed only when she was thinking about Emma or in Emma’s presence. 

Her life just didn’t work without Emma Swan. Accepting that made Regina feel better, but there was still the problem of convincing the woman she loved to come back. Not as an employee or friend, but as her best friend, companion, and -- hopefully one day -- her lover and partner.

Cora nodded to herself, happy with what she knew was going through Regina’s mind. “OK, so Operation Homing Pigeon is born.”

“Homing pigeon? That’s a ridiculous name for an operation,” Regina couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, we’re going to bring your Swan home to roost, dear. And just so you don’t have to ask, yes, I’m going to help your pitiful self,” Cora said, opening the Facebook app on her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m scrolling through the Facebook page for The Screaming Harpies, that’s the name of her friends’ band. I saw something yesterday about them hiring a new manager, and that’s what Emma’s doing now. Managing a band. Can you imagine that? Our little Emma traveling with a punk feminist rock band? Looks like they do a lot of festivals,” she said, still scrolling. “They’ll be a little town in Maine called Storybrooke for the band’s anniversary, playing someplace called Granny’s. How quaint.”

“When?” Regina asked, pulling up her favorite airline’s website, ready to book a flight to the closest airport.

“In two days’ time.”

Logging in on her iPhone, it only took Regina a few determined taps to book a business class seat for the next day. It felt as if she had air in her lungs again. The words would come again.

She was going to bring Emma home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Cora are my new BrOTP.

“Hey, gurrrrl! What’s shakin’? Everything OK?”

Ruby balanced her iPhone against her ear with a bare shoulder as she scooped as much mint chocolate chip ice cream into a small cereal bowl as was humanly possible. The woman on the other end of the line laughed.

“Ruby, dear, it’s been a long time since someone called me ‘girl.’ And things are great here,” Cora said, her voice an aristocratic purr.

“Yeah? You heard we got a new manager, right? Emma’s great.”

“I saw that on the Screaming Harpies Facebook page. I’m so glad the band is there for our darling Emma. You’re such good friends to her.”

“Well, it’s not hard. She’s pretty awesome, always has been.” There was a pause as Ruby spooned some ice cream into her mouth, then she garbled: “It’s a good thing she doesn’t know we know each other. Beeteedubs, she told me what happened.”

“Oh, really?”

Cora was surprised. Emma usually held her emotions close to the vest, which was part of the reason Cora had bonded so well with the girl. Or, so she had thought. She had expected at least a call from Emma to let her know she was safe, wherever she had disappeared to. Cora’s patronage of young upcoming bands through a dummy foundation helped steer her daughter’s love to the Screaming Harpies.

Cora had only ever known the Harpies through online communication. Cora’s dummy Facebook profile allowed her to use the hours once spent in the offices of Mills Industries to keep tabs on those important in her life. Sure, sometimes her activities crossed the line into stalking, but only by the loosest definitions. Well, by her own definitions. She preferred to think of herself as a sort of guardian angel, guiding the appropriate people toward each other for the benefit of all parties involved.

That Ruby and Emma already knew each other only helped things along.

“Yeah. Regina kissed her after months of hot and heavy tension, then apologized. For someone who has only ever had people use her and then crap on her, it was too much for Em. Hurt her heart. Wounded her soul somehow. … Despite my advice, I think she actually loves Regina.”

Cora bristled at the criticism of her daughter.

“Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she? Regina is a beautiful, talented, wonderful woman.”

On the other end of the line, Ruby bristled. From everything she knew of Regina Mills, she was a reclusive bitch. Hot and bangable, but a bitch nonetheless. Ruby released a noncommittal murmur – Cora was funding the band’s tour, after all.

“Yes, dear,” Cora laughed. “I am aware of what most people think of my darling spawn. She comes by it naturally. From her father’s side, of course.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Ruby’s grin was loud enough to reach through the phone. Despite her own feelings about Regina, it was obvious that Emma loved the woman. That she had been terrified out of her mind was evidence of that. When Emma’s emotion became involved, Emma’s fight-or-flight response kicked in. More often than not, she flew the coop. But she had a feeling this … thing … with Regina was worth fighting for. Emma’s regrets were written all over her face from the moment she appeared in the morning to the second she said good night and headed to bed.

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know the trap has been tripped. Regina is on her way to the airport for a 9 p.m. flight. Prepare to be ‘discovered’ as soon as tomorrow.”

 

 

“What the hell is going on?”

The frustration dripped from the brunette’s voice like venom from a snake’s fangs. Regina sat in the front row of first class as the flight attendants bustled about the cabin. She checked the airline app on her phone again, confirming the crew’s on-time rate of 98 percent. That had been part of the reason she had chosen this flight, after all. It was 20 minutes past the time they should have been wheels up.

“Last minute VIP passenger. I’m so sorry, Ms. Mills,” said the blond flight attendant. He was only doing his job, and Regina had to remind herself of that fact. “The owner of the company will be joining us on this flight.”

Regina rolled her eyes. So fucking what. The hundred or so other people on the plane had somewhere to be, but one selfish asshole was holding up all their agendas. How incredibly petty to demand …

She felt someone slump into the seat next to her with a grand whoosh of a black coat and cashmere scarf. The cloud of perfume was understated, but familiar. Regina sighed.

“So nice you could join us, Mother.”

“Scoot over, dear. You’re on my armrest,” Cora huffed.

“Excuse me? It’s my armrest,” Regina glared, bringing her volume down to a harsh whisper. “And what the hell are you doing here? Do you want me to have a breakdown?”

Cora splayed a hand against her chest in affected shock. “But you should be thanking me. I brought some anti-anxiety medication to avoid just such an event.”

Regina rolled her eyes. She should have expected something like this. She knew her mother had fallen into a mother-daughter relationship with Emma while she herself had been falling for the woman.

Cora rummaged in her overlarge leather purse – black, of course – as the flight crew began to go through the choreographed dance of the safety protocol lecture. Regina tried paying attention, even though she had flown MI KnightFlight airlines dozens of times.

“Want some gum? Pop your ears?” Cora offered up a packet of Juicy Fruit. It was the same brand she had offered Regina on every flight they had ever gone on together. Cora acted as if she were seven years old in perpetuity.

Regina took a piece and popped it in her mouth with a tight scowl. God, she hoped this flight would be a quick one.

It wasn’t.

 

 

Granny’s was a restaurant that turned into a nightclub at 9 p.m. every night of the week except Sunday. That was the day the aptly named proprietess, Granny, had set aside for the single day off she took every week to apologize for her sins.

“Just in case, y’know,” the gray-haired matriarch of the Lucas clan confided in Emma Swan.

Emma enjoyed Granny’s company. She reminded her of some of the nicer foster homes she had been in and, on her truly down days, of Cora Mills. Except without the obvious wealth and a different sort of kickass attitude that would condone no bullshit of any kind.

And that sort of thinking led to thoughts of Regina and The Kiss.

She shook her head to bring herself back to the present conversation. There was nothing she could do about that situation now. It was over. Even if she hadn’t fucked it up royally, a relationship with Regina would have never lasted. Someone like Regina didn’t get with a homeless foster kid like her.

Forever the foster kid, no matter how far away from the system she ran, Emma thought. It always hung there like a dark cloud that only she could see and feel, raining on everything she ever thought to hold tightly to herself as her own. She had never been wanted, why would anyone – especially someone as desirable and socially accepted as Regina Mills – ever even think of a relationship as a possibility?

It wasn’t, and never would be. Maybe some hardcore fun at first, but then more trouble than what it was worth to lose someone as precious as Regina from her life. But … that had happened anyway, right?

God, she was so confused, Emma thought. She wished she had someone to talk to, to just confide in and get advice from. But she had run hard and fast from even the remote possibility of that when she had left Regina’s compound in the middle of the night.

“I get ya, Granny. Sometimes I feel the need to apologize, too,” Emma said, smiling wistfully out toward the street from her spot at the counter. In a few minutes it would become a bar, but not yet. Granny was nothing if not a stickler for timetables.

“Anyone in particular you feel the need to apologize to, girl?” Granny asked softly.

The cascade of bells attached to the diner’s door jangled obnoxiously as someone walked in. Emma heard heels clicking a particular woman’s cadence against the immaculate tiles.

_It couldn’t be_ , Emma thought. She refused to look up, staring into her hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon as if it held the answers she had once searched for in toy aisle Magic 8-balls.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up.

The perfume surrounded her, a delicate blend of citrus that didn’t dare overwhelm. The wearer wouldn’t allow such an abomination. Emma felt the newcomer remove their long coat and drap it across a stool before taking a seat herself.

“May I have a cup of coffee, please? Black?” the newcomer asked Granny, who bustled off to retrieve a clean mug.

Emma squirmed and took a drink of her hot chocolate before looking up at the brunette next to her.

“Hello, Emma.”

_Shit_.

She was sure she had whipped cream on her nose.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been, like, 100 years since I've updated this. I went to grad school, got my degree, and got my dream job -- which involves writing. Funny thing, when you write all day sometimes you don't really want to write at night. And, honestly, OUAT just went off the rails there for awhile for me. But here I am, here is an update to "The One", and there will be more. 
> 
> Thank you for staying interested and supporting fanfic by investing your time and emotions. I do appreciate every reader, every comment, and every kudo. Thank you.

The Screaming Harpies were notoriously late for sound checks. It was often because singer and lead guitarist Ruby and bass player Belle were off in the green room making out. 

Or in the bathroom.

Or in any out of the way nook they could find.

This time, though, it was because the band’s manager was inside Granny’s suffering through the most humiliating moments of her life. Or, at least, that's what Emma considered them as she slowly looked up from her large hot chocolate and into the usually sharp dark eyes of Regina Mills. As her gaze reached her former employer’s flawless face, Emma saw no sharpness there. Instead, she was greeted by a concerned visage, one that Emma had rarely ever seen before.

“Hello, Emma.” The voice was the same smoky purr she remembered from her years as its owner’s assistant.

Shit.

Play it cool, Swan. You left for a good reason, so just … play it cool.

“Regina.”

Emma could hear the Belle warming up her bass, Mr. Gold, as she took it through some riffs of a new song. 

“I think we need to talk, dear,” Regina said as Granny put a heavy chipped mug of what appeared to be the sludge from the bottom of a coffee pot before her. A few drops sloshed over the side, creating a quickly congealing pool of brown slime on the countertop.

“I don’t know. I think you said pretty much everything you needed to say. You’re sorry. I understand. I gave you an out and left before you had to kick me to the curb. No problem.”

Regina stared even as she felt something heavy and hard drop from her throat to the very bottom of her gut. Is that really how Emma saw their relationship? Sure, she had tried to keep everything as professional as possible, but that was sometimes impossible when two people worked so closely together.

“So I found my own place to be, my own home. I didn’t wait to be asked to leave yours. No harm, no foul.” Emma took a sip of her quickly cooling hot chocolate. It was more like lukewarm chocolate now.

It had happened before. Things would seem to be cruising along just fine, then someone would do something or something would happen that was out of her control and Emma would be tossed back to the storm of the foster care system. Group homes, foster homes, the street — she had learned long ago that it was much easier if one chose to leave a situation of their own accord than be asked to leave.

That part always sucked. Especially if you thought you were on solid footing for the first time in a long time, then the rug gets yanked out from under you. And when the kiss happened — good lord, that kiss! — Emma had known. There was no way someone like Regina Mills meant to have an actual relationship with a glorified street rat like Emma Swan. She had practically felt that rug being pulled in slow motion before that soft, beautiful kiss had come to its natural end.

 

Regina couldn’t believe the utter bullshit Emma was spouting. On one hand, it was incredibly sad. Of course she had known something of Emma’s childhood. How could you not when you worked closely with someone and let them into pretty much every corner of your life? But on the other hand, it fucking infuriated her. 

“Well, that’s just fucking ridiculous, Ms. Swan,” Regina said and sipped some of the burnt sludge Granny considered her best Colombian brew. She scowled at the bitter taste and set the mug back in its brown circular hell-stain and, for better measure, pushed it away.

Emma’s head shot up at Regina’s swearing. Sure, the author did it in her books, but she had always kept her language aboveboard when it came to professional matters. Well, I guess this isn’t a professional matter, Emma thought.

“Is it? Really?” Emma turned on her stool and became suddenly aware that the pair of them had drawn quite a crowd. Everyone in the place was staring at them, enthralled at the conversation. Even Belle was looking through the window from the outdoor stage, enraptured in the scene even as she worked Mr. Gold into an insistent bass line. Ruby had abandoned all pretense and was openly staring from the stage.

“Really?!” Emma threw to the shameless audience, who all then returned to what they were doing prior to Regina’s entrance. 

As if awakening, Regina took Emma by the arm and power walked through the restaurant to a nearby corridor. “Look. I handled it all badly, I admit. But my apology was not about the kiss. Or the fact of it. It was more about the fact I didn’t ask first. I took without your consent and, for that, I was — and am — sorry.”  
Regina’s eyes, as always, showed she was speaking the truth. 

Emma’s brow furrowed. That was totally not what she had interpreted, not at all. How could she have gotten it so wrong? Well, Ems, you’ve never been great at interpersonal communication, she answered herself. 

Regina still hadn’t released Emma’s elbow, but her hold softened. “I am sorry for so many things, and your absence from my life these last months has pointed them out quite clearly. I’m sorry for allowing you to think I was interested in only a professional relationship. That I didn’t value you enough as a person. That I didn’t value you as my friend … and so much more.

“Emma, I …” Regina stuttered.

“Yes?” Emma prompted. Something big was about to happen, she just knew it. Her blue eyes widened.

“I … I want you to come back. To the job.”

Emma deflated. “No.” She pulled her arm away from Regina’s grasp. She had set herself up for this one. That damn rug again. How naive could she be? How stupid could she continue to be? She needed to get away. She needed to run.

It had been a strategy that had saved her more times than she could count. Emma thought for just a moment she had been wrong this time, but no. This conversation had solidified her resolve. Getting away from Regina Mills and her feelings for the reclusive author was just what she needed to feel more herself, more free than she had in a long time. A rolling stone gathers no moss, and all that. That was her destiny — to be free. It was her choice, and it wasn’t one she would ever allow another person to decide for her. Emma’s agency had been hard-fought, and she had no intention of ever allowing another person to take it away from her.

“I have a job,” she threw over her shoulder as she made her way back to the bar stools where she had left her bag. Tossing some dollar bills on the counter, Emma nodded to Granny in thanks. The older woman nodded almost imperceptibly.

 

Shit. That came out all wrong, Regina thought. Where the fuck were her words now? The words that had garnered her bestsellers and millions of dollars. That had brought Emma into her life in the first place.

Fucking gone, that’s where they were. Because that’s what Emma did to her. She stole every single coherent thought from Regina’s brain and then disappeared before Regina could regain sense of herself and communicate her intentions.

Regina’s heels were angry as they clicked a staccato beat across the ancient linoleum of Granny’s dining room. She had to catch Emma before she disappeared again.

“EMMA SWAN!”

The world seemed to stop. All the clatter of the diners ceased, even Belle’s bass line came to a sudden halt outside. Oh, yes, Regina had made sure that what must be the entirety of Storybrooke, Maine, had stopped everything to watch the show.

Emma had one hand on the door, but had turned to face Regina. Her hair nearly glowed with the sun’s rays streaming through the glass panes of the door. She held her messenger bag and sweater in front of her like a shield and cocked her head as if to say: “What?”

Regina stepped closer, as if approaching a wild animal that had been injured. In some ways, it was an apt description. Emma’s wild heart had been damaged, her soul written upon by others without her consent. Regina ached for that little girl.

And she ached for the woman standing before her, but for much different reasons.

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I have never told anyone how I feel. I put it in writing, I do outlines and create characters and set scenes. I create narratives I can control. But I cannot control you, Emma, nor do I want to. This thing between us … I’m not sure what it is. Love? Lust? Admiration? Friendship? All those things are part of it, at least from where I stand. That’s why I kissed you, Emma Swan. Because of all those things and nothing else.

“If you want me to go, I will go. I hope you don’t. I hope …”

Regina’s words were cut off by the sound of Emma’s bag and sweater hitting the floor with a mild thud. She hadn’t realized her gaze had drifted downward as she delivered her monologue from the heart, and suddenly Emma was in front of her. Her eyes wild yet determined and her silky hair a halo of golden fire as she leaned toward Regina.

And, finally, their lips met in a kiss that was the best kiss to have ever been kissed. It was The Kiss.

Some in the diner rolled their eyes and went back to the quickly cooling pork chop specials. Some grinned and nodded their approval. Some smacked the arms of those sitting next to them as if to say: See? That’s how you do romance, Earl.

But not Ruby Lucas and Cora Mills. Ruby Lucas and Cora Mills wiped a tear and high-fived each other as they watched from outside the window, a fact anyone could have paid witness to had they simply turned their focus away from the couple kissing in the middle of the dinner rush at the only restaurant in town.

The kiss ended, as kisses must, and Regina and Emma simply held each other. 

“We have some shit to figure out,” Emma whispered as she nuzzled against Regina’s cheek, which had somehow become wet in all the action.

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should do that.”

“I agree.”

“I have a room upstairs.”


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

The walk to Emma’s room in reality took only a few seconds, but the period was a timeless chasm in Regina’s mind. It seemed like a dream, but that was too cliche for Regina to even fathom. It was a sudden fever in her heart; a glitch in her brain that made every sense a result of the simple euphoria of Emma’s touch. 

Emma held her hand as she led the way to the second floor of Granny’s, presumably where her room was. Emma released Regina’s hand only to drag the room key from her pocket, and Regina’s heart dropped at the loss of contact. She pressed against the woman she loved and their bodies slotted together as Emma whimpered and struggled with the ancient door lock.

“Mm. Thank God I decided not to share with Ruby and Belle,” she whispered for Regina’s ears only. 

“A fortunate decision, I think,” Regina buried her smile into Emma’s sweet-scented hair. It took all she had not to slide her hands along the woman’s hips and push her into the room as soon as the door was opened.

The room was hideous.

“You’re so beautiful,” Emma breathed before kissing Regina deeply. Who knew when she would get this opportunity again? “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

Regina grinned. She had never smiled so much during a romantic interlude, and there had been some. They had been important, but not like this. Not like Emma.

No one had been as important as Emma, and Regina suddenly had the urge to let her know. To make sure she knew this was important. Gripping Emma’s arms, she pushed her away gently. Just enough to put some air between them.

Emma frowned and searched Regina’s face, staring into those brown eyes, wet with emotion. What was wrong? Was she going to apologize again? 

“Please, don’t …” Emma said, brow furrowed. Her hands grasped at the sides of Regina’s face.

“No, I have to say this. You have to know.”

“What? What could be so important right now?”

Regina’s eyes took on a determined glow. “You. You are important. To me, Emma. I won’t want you to think otherwise. You are the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want there to be any confusion because of what we are about to do here.”

Emma’s hands dropped as she gazed at Regina, whose eyes told the truth of her words. 

Why wasn’t she saying anything? Regina could hear the sound of her own heart in her ears. What was wrong? Was she wrong about what she had assumed was happening? Lord knows, it wouldn't have been the first time.

Finally, Emma smiled.

“And what do you think is about to happen here, Ms. Mills?”

With that, Emma dove back into their embrace. The kiss was hot yet tender. Emma recognized the battered pieces of Regina’s heart and was putting them back together with her very presence. With her very existence. 

With her love.

Regina couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think we’re about to make some magic, Ms. Swan.”

Emma pulled Regina over to the bed until her own knees hit the back and she sat heavily on the mattress as she tugged at her clothing. Regina, loathe to separate from the woman she loved, went with her, their lips still connected.

“Magic. Yes, that’s what it is. True love is the most powerful magic of all,” Emma agreed.

Regina leaned an elbow on the mattress and traced Emma’s lips with a finger. “Ah. Quoting my own dialogue back to me? Really? Is it all work with you?”

“Of course not. But sometimes art reflects reality,” she said. “This has been a long time coming.

“Mm,” Regina murmured in agreement, leaning over so she could trace her tongue along the tendon on the side of Emma’s neck.

“I enjoy being important to you, “ she said, feeling the tingle run from Regina’s tongue to her scalp. It was such a delicious feeling being with the woman she loved. It had been so long, and the separation had felt like forever. “I never want to be away from you again.”  
Regina slipped her hands down Emma’s torso, absorbing herself in the soft mounds of her lover’s breasts. She reached the hem of her shirt and pulled it over Emma’s head.

“Never again.”

A tear slipped from each of Emma’s eyes and her fingers slid through Regina’s silky dark locks. It truly felt like she had found a home. For a former foster child, it was a potent feeling. It was such a balm to the wounds of her soul and spirit she had never known existed, just to hear those words from the woman she adored.

“I love you,” Emma whispered as Regina’s lips made her way down her belly only to stop at her waistband.

“And I you, Emma. You mean everything to me. These last days have made me feel insane. I can’t be apart from you again,” she said and pulled at Emma’s leggings, stripping them off as if having been presented with the most precious gift.

Regina knew it was important to reassure Emma. She knew of her lover’s past; of course, she did. She had done an extensive background check on Emma before hiring her. 

Regina was aware of the years Emma had spent in foster care and assumed the worst of possibilities to be true. She had no pity for Emma, but regretted the woman’s past and wished to be a part of a better future.

Emma certainly had a been a wonderful part of Regina’s own life story. She wanted these feelings to go on forever, to continue with a happy ending like the modern-day fairy tales she had been inspired to write because of Emma’s presence. 

Emma pulled her lover back up to her, licking the woman's full lips and finding herself lost in dark eyes now dilated to black pools with arousal. 

“You’re so … “ Emma was lost for words.

“So …?” Regina muttered as she sipped at Emma’s lips, teasing the blonde’s tongue with her own.

“So … everything.”

And Regina put her everything into worshipping Emma’s body, heart, and soul. She was lost in all that was Emma Swan, and it was perfect.

Emma slipped her hand down Regina’s pants, feeling the slick viscosity that was her lover’s arousal. She had done that. Emma Swan had done that to one Regina Mills, Evil Queen of the publishing world. Emma felt powerful and in love and as if she had conquered the world.

And, in many ways, she had.

It was a feeling she had never experienced. There had been one lover that had meant something before she had met Regina. He had betrayed her in the worst way, leaving her pregnant and imprisoned, forced to surrender their child to the same world her parents had tossed her into at birth. She had long vowed to find him again. To bring him home when she found him, or to at least meet him and be a part of his life.

Home. Whatever that was.

But for now, she knew only one home. Regina. 

Regina was her home, and she and her love were more than enough to make life worthwhile. To light the way into what had been a dim future but now seemed to be the very hope she had always chased but never found. 

Emma Swan felt hope for the first time in years. She felt truly loved for the first time … well, ever.

And it was all because of her Evil Queen.

 

The night went too quickly. At some point, the pair heard the Screaming Harpies begin their concert. Not just that, they and the audience screamed out their approval of the pair’s reconciliation. 

“And now, ladies and gents, we’re gonna play our favorite love song and dedicate it to our favorite gal pals, Regina and Emma. Cora, cue it up!” Ruby enthused into the microphone. The speakers must sounded like they had been moved just under the window of Emma’s room. The band cranked out the first few chords of a punk version of “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”

“Cora?!” Emma asked from her warm spot against Regina in the bed with he hideous quilt. 

“Oh, yes. She came along, too,” Regina said, pecking Emma’s shoulder. “She’s been the Harpies’ patron for awhile now. She didn’t know I knew. She used a fake identity. She has them set up at banks all over.”

Emma pulled away and looked at Regina for a moment. Then: “Regina, I’m sorry, but your mom is weird.”

The brunette laughed and squeezed Emma closer.

“Oh, love. You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Notes are welcome!


End file.
